The courage of a kiss
by Maeve-Tyrell
Summary: Hermione is starting to get over what her life had become over the last year. Even being an eighth year student at Hogwarts seems too normal. She and Ron have started dating. Even Draco isn't such a prat anymore. But when her love life takes a dark turn, who is there for Hermione? Maybe there is no one left to protect her…
1. Chapter 1

**Authors note: Hi! Thank you for clicking on my story. I make no promises that it'll be good... Please comment suggestions for improvement, I am here to learn after all. But thanks and hope you do enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters or settings because I am not J. I am a wannabe writer who lives on her computer... **

Hermione was lost. Not knowing when the pain would stop. Never knowing if she would heal. Because in that moment, the pain was all she felt. And it killed her.

The memorial at Hogwarts, only days after the defeat of Voldemort, was nearing. Harry had told his friends that any of them were welcome at Grimmauld Place. No one really had the heart to go home. So she and the Weasely's were staying in the abundance of spare rooms.

Her black dress hung on the bedroom door. She's stared at it a lot. It was a really depressing dress. It was a death dress. She'd bought it to attend funerals in. It was weird that she was doing normal things like buying clothes. Just 2 days ago had Hogwarts been under siege. And Hermione didn't know what to do with herself. She was grieving and so was everyone else. Between the outbreaks of really depressing stuff, there was nothing to think. Hermione's eyes stung, they were red and puffy and had been for 2 days. A lot of the time she just leaned against the wall and stared at her feet. There was nothing to think, but she couldn't stop remembering. Fred's eyes. Tonk's hair. Remus' stern looks. Collin's smile. And then came the tears. Endless bouts of emotion. Then feeling nothing. Like an empty shell staring at her black depressing dress in her grey depressing room. Staring at anything. A crack in between the floor boards. A fold in the curtain. A book not so neatly stuffed onto her book shelf. The glass of water, unsettled by anything. The dust settling on her carpet. Depression, no doubt. And it wasn't going to end anytime soon.

Everything felt surreal. Like Hermione was watching everything through a screen. She was seeing through a grey filter. Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with her. Everything was disjointed now. Nothing seemed real at Remus and Tonks' funeral. Teddy cried even though he didn't know why. Nothing seemed _more_ real than the pain at Fred's funeral. George couldn't tear his eyes off the coffin. The only thing that grounded her was her death dress. Which was weird, she realised. However the dress was a symbol of consistence. It was a memory, like a photo album. But of dead people's funerals.

On the morning of the memorial Hermione put her black dress. She pinned up her hair with a black clip and tucked her wand under her skirt. _Just a habit._ She sighed. It was her last funeral, but it was one for a mass grave.

Tracing the flaking wallpaper along the staircase, Hermione wandered downstairs. After biding good morning to Kreacher and to Harry, the only ones awake, Hermione apperated. It took her a while to decide that she would visit the castle before the ceremony. So to pass the time Hermione explored the librar

It was a strangely comforting place. And the only place that was vaguely familiar. Someone had swept the floor which was now free from dust and debris. The books had been restored to their shelves. In fact, the library had been spared on the whole. A couple of the windows where smashed but they could be fixed. Luckily, the fire that had broken out further down the corridor had been contained and it seemed like the flames hadn't gotten to the library. Hermione drifted between the isles and soon she was engrossed. A sudden movement, someone behind the shelves. Hermione tensed. She could here the shuffling towards the back of the library. She peered curiously through pass the isle. She caught a glimpse of silver blonde but instead of pursuing the stranger, Hermione half turned. Almost as if she was second guessing her own decision. But the proceeded to walk cautiously out of the library onto the grounds.

The gentle breeze pushed the stray strands of hair off her cheek. The clear country air was refreshing. Hermione's lungs felt full of oxygen. She finally felt like she could breathe after a week of holding it in. A week of patting other's on the back. Of asking if they felt okay or needed a shoulder to cry on. It was horrible, thinking like that did make her feel guilty. But now she didn't have to tiptoe around Ginny incase she burst into tears. She didn't have to hide any happy emotion she felt incase someone else was still grieving. She had cried all the tears she had to cry.

Hermione's eyes fell onto the grass underneath her feet. Buds and wispy grass stems were the heralding of spring. A glimpse of summer's brilliant green that soon would grow to carpet the earth. The trees, warmed by the fresh sunlight and rain. Among their adolescent branches chirped the birds flitting in and out of the clouds. May was one of Hermione's favourite months. And today was a perfect day in May.

Looking upwards, Hermione stared up at the vastness of the castle. It seemed bleak and caused a rift between the light hearted atmosphere. With it's windows shattered, stone chipped and turrets demolished. But the air was light and delicate. Hogwarts would be repaired and the shadow of a new year hung in the air like a promise.

Turning back, the depressing scenery was replaced with gatherings of friends. The memorial was to take place on Hogwart's grounds. A billowing white tent stood to the left. A raised platform stood facing the castle, a podium in it's midst. With rows of seats stretching out. A maroon curtain was draped as the back drop for the platform where the Minister of magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, would present his speech.

Hermione caught sight of a glimpse of flaming red hair among a crowd of black funeral robes.

"Ron." Hermione breathed. She ambled down the inclined hill to her friends gathering near the stage. "Ron! Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, even though she didn't really know why she was so relieved to see them.

Harry saw her and let go of Ginny's hand. "Mione!" Harry squeezed her tightly into a hug. "Been a while," He mused. Hermione smiled, knowing that they'd seen each other that morning at Grimmauld Place before apperating to the ceremony. Harry grinned as Ron pulled Hermione into a kiss. It caught her by surprise, especially in such a somber setting.

_"Ron isn't a bad kisser,"_ Hermione thought. _"He's just a bit… slobbery."_

Hermione then spoke to Mrs Weasely and paid her respects to Andromeda who cradled her grandson Teddy in her arms. Then just as she joined Ginny, people began to take their places. Ginny, Hermione, Harry and Ron all sat in one row of chairs immediately in front of the podium. The whisperings were diminished when the Minister stepped onto the stage. Kingsley had a smooth, exotic way of speaking. It was relaxing to listen to.

After greeting and thanking everyone for attending the memorial, he announced Ginevra Mcgonagall as Hogwart's Head Master and that the term would begin in september as normal.

Then Kingsley proceeded to read a list of the victims of the battle of Hogwarts. He spoke about their funerals and commemorated them for their service. Kingsley talked about not only those who had died in the last week but those who died defending our world against dark forces. Old members of the Order of the Phoenix, employees of the Ministry. Hermione held Harry's hand tightly when Kingsley mentioned Sirius. After his roll of acknowledgements he paused.

"Akin to the services and sacrifices of the victims of this war there are those who played a large part in the liberation from dark power to our community. As a gesture of appreciation and acknowledgement for the service of a select few, and as the Minister of Magic I have the honour and privilege to bestow the Order of Merlin." Kingsley gestured to a young man on his right holding a grand glass case, the medals glinted inside amidst the crushed velvet.

"Firstly, for his acts of outstanding bravery and distinction, I award Harry potter a First class Order of Merlin." A mighty round of applause ensued as Harry, shocked and bewildered, stumbled on stage. Kingsley draped his medal over his head, it's green ribbon flapping in the breeze. Kingsley shook Harry's hand firmly and reassuringly. The applause didn't end for a long while.

"Secondly, for her acts of loyalty and for her courageous endeavours, I award Hermione Granger a First class Order of Merlin."

Hermione's eyes had glossed over, her body and mind uncomprehending. Ginny shook her arm madly until without instruction her legs carried her onto the platform. She found herself stood side by side with Harry. The applause for her was deafening as Kingsley reached over, placing the medal over breast of Hermione's dress. She felt Harry squeezing her hand, "You deserve it." He mouthed. Hermione stared, her mouth agape and cheeks blushing, out into the crowd. She spotted that Hagrid was wiping a tear away and that the Weasley's were hooting and cheering. She felt proud too, Harry really deserved it. The crowd settled down after Kingsley raised his hand in a silencing gesture.

"And, in honorary respects, I bestow Severus Snape with a Second class Order of Merlin. As recognition for his dedication and service to Dumbledore." The crowd did not object but bowed their head in respect. The silence was peaceful. Kingsley did not speak for a long time.

"I would also like to reaffirm the Order of Merlin that was bestowed to Remus Lupin. His life, among many other's, were..." Kingsley paused as if he was searching for the right word, "...sacrificed during the Battle of Hogwarts. His service can never be repaid. Victory during war is costly. For any battle casualties are far more costly. We mourn for our loved ones, friends, strangers. For they are the heroes of war. There may be nothing glorious about their deaths. 'Heroes of war' is far to eloquent a term. The sacrifice and courage of every one is what we remember them for. Defending each other to even death is the greatest sacrifice that can be made. And they will be remembered. As is the service of the Order of the Phoenix, the Professors at Hogwarts for the protection of its students. For the support of every magical being in our fight to be freed from the dark wizards who live in our world. Today, like the 2nd of May every year, is a memorial but not just for the dead. For all the sacrifices that have been made. Thank you."

A orchestra of silent music ensued. One that played in the eyes of the people like Mrs Weasley who remembered. Painful and woeful music. A ballad of love and mourning. After a minute or two, people began to depart. Harry and Hermione were still in an embrace, standing in a sombre trance on the platform. As they broke apart, they were flooded with congratulations. Hermione noticed that Ron hadn't said anything.

Ginny was admiring her medal when Hermione felt someone tap her shoulder politely. She turned to find, shockingly, that she faced Draco Malfoy. His perfectly tailored suit was a mossy green and black pinstripe diner jacket and accompanying trousers with a black dress shirt and moss green tie. She was genuinely surprised at the formality of his attire.

After the initial shock, Hermione jeered under her breath, _"Green? He really is the Slytherin Prince."_

What set Hermione on edge was Draco's expression. It was vacant and stern, not taunting eyes and mocking lips. He stood there, silently, his hands at his sides. Draco stared and Hermione finally saw his eyes. They were a stormy blue, a blizzard of Arctic ice. His hair was silver, not platinum. The blonde in his hair seemed to have been whitewashed in a silver bath. It was swept up in a cresting wave.

"Hello, Draco." Hermione spoke hesitantly.

Draco took a minute to compose himself. Then, after running his hand through his hair nervously, spoke. "Granger." He acknowledged. "I'm here…" His lip quivered slightly, but only just enough for Hermione to notice. "I'm here... To apologise."

Hermione's mouth was agape in a sphere and her eyes bulged. The only thing that Hermione could think was, _"What the hell is wrong with him!?"_


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors note: This chapter is a little bit risque. I am writing this chapter at a time so uploading is going to be at really weird times. Also I don't own harry potter, just putting a spin on it.**

"Hermione, I have done awful things in the past. I know that you can never forgive me or my family name for what grief and anguish I have caused you. But I would like you to know that from the depths of my heart I am truly sorry."

Hermione stood still as Draco turned and left. She had seen the pain in his eyes, "He really did mean it." She exhaled. "Malfoy, you really have changed."

The ceremony have been branded into Hermione's mind for more than a month. Her peculiar encounter with Malfoy. It was all she could think about, other than the letter that had arrived. She had sat at her desk, pining over the ending of a book, when a misty white owl had flown in and perched on her window cill. Its beady eyes stared Hermione down until she had retrieved the letter from its talon beak. Turning it, Hermione saw the seal of the school she had attended for the previous six years. She gasped and ripped it open. The letter inside was rather thick parchment, the ink inscribing it was a watery turquoise.

_Dear Miss Hermione Granger,_

_As a student of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry I am pleased to inform you that you have been excepted into our honorary 8th year program. We realise that many of our students may have been denied an education, vital during the year of their scheduled OWLS. Those who do not wish to complete the year will be mandated to spend the first week at school for us to process the test results and for them to receive their Graduation Certificate. We believe that to have this document in their possession is adamant for a career in the Wizarding world. _

_Term begins on the 1st September. Enclosed are the advanced books and equipment required for the classes available for the year 8 students._

_As clarification, the year 8 students will be attending classes with the 7th years as both will be taking their OWLS. Only specific classes can be attended separate from the rest of the year. The 8th years, as a small year group, will have a single common room/dorms shared amongst all of the participants' houses. We believe this will be a profitable experience that will be a sufficient bonding method. We expect your full cooperation. _

_Minerva Mcgonagall _

_Head Mistress of Hogwarts school_

Hermione knew that today would be the perfect day to get all of the supplies she needed at Diagon Alley. She apperated to the Burrow after stuffing her supplies list into her beaded bag than hung from her wrist. Hermione had apperated into the kitchen where Mrs Weasley had been cooking.

"Hermione, dear! You gave me a right old fright, apperating like that." Molly raised her hand to her chest, her expression still a bit surprised. Hermione wheezed an apology while catching her breath. Apperating still shocked Hermione a bit, even after doing it so frequently.

"Molly, are Ron and Harry upstairs?" Hermione gulped even though she was already heading towards the staircase.

"Actually, dear, they left with their brooms a good hour ago. Off to play quidditch, no doubt!" Molly chortled. "Oh, dear. Did you make plans?" She patted Hermione sympathetically.

"Oh, no. I was just hoping that we could get our stuff for school."

"That can't be right! Ron told me he wouldn't be needing his school supplies as he wasn't going to be returning for his 8th year." Molly added.

"What!" Hermione snapped. She cringed, her face flushed crimson.

Molly gasped, "That little git. Not even telling his own girlfriend! The cheek."

She jolted, sounding a gasp. "I know! Why don't you go in with Ginny. She doesn't have all of her things yet and I'm sure she'd love the company. In fact, she's upstairs right now! You two go have fun while I plot for the return of our cheeky devil."

Hermione and Ginny strolled down the cobble stone pathway. Wizards, Warlocks and plenty of mischievous children pushed and shoved their way down the high street. Ginny was sucking on her popsicle from the Weasley emporium. The popsicle's side effects included slowly extending the length of her vibrantly red hair. The'd all ready visited every where they needed to visit. Except for Flourish and Blott's.

"My arms hurt Mione. Do we really have to go into the bookstore?" Ginny grovelled.

"You know very well that nearly half of your equipment list is made up of books! And besides, it's my favourite shop." Hermione retorted.

The bookstore itself was almost empty. The store's interior was very strangely shaped. The walls bent at odd angles and the corners didn't seem to be at the same angle either. The book cases were scattered all over the floor plan with no room in-between. But the books were neatly stacked and shelved, the smell remained as comforting as ever. Fresh parchment and newly printed ink. Hermione breathed in deeply as she crossed over the threshold, Ginny close at her heels. Bookstores always felt so personal, Hermione never really felt comfortable reading if someone watched her. She was relieved to find that only one other person appeared to be browsing for books. She and Ginny rounded up their books and ticked off the last items on their shopping lists. Hermione wandered to the back of the store while Ginny stood by the till, counting out her sickles. A book with gold binding stood out on its shelf. Hermione picked it up and surveyed it carefully.

"Hermione!" Ginny's voice rung out. "I'm ready to leave when you are. So, you know, by all means take your time!" She added sarcastically. Hermione smiled at her hyperactive friend. She suddenly felt the hairs on her neck stand up. Like someone was watching her. Hermione spun quickly around to make eye contact with Draco. _"He had been the other figure browsing books!" _She snapped.

Hermione held his gaze for a single second longer before storming out of there, Ginny being pulled by the wrists. For some reason seeing Draco there made her angry.

"Ouch! Hermione, not so tight." Ginny whined as she messaged her wrists. She suddenly giggled. "I know how you can make up for it! There's a place I really want to go to. Please, please!"

"Fine. Where do you desperately have to go?"

"The lingerie store…" Ginny gushed.

Ginny had found out that just outside the entrance to Diagon Alley, through the leaky cauldron, was a muggle lingerie store. Apparently, all of Ginny's friends had been dropping in. But it seemed like Hermione was the only one who wasn't interested in the slightest. She certainly did not want to be standing inside the satin pink coated lingerie store with erotic music seeping out the doorway. Ginny was prancing around with a hand full of lace bra's.

"Answer me this, Miss Weasely. Why do you want lace bra's and knickers?" Hermione drawled.

"Well, they make me feel sexy when I wear them." Ginny looked at Hermione accusingly. "What? You can't tell me that once in a while you like to get dressed up."

"Yeah, but I get dressed up in nice clothes for other people to see." Hermione deflected. In all honesty, even though she didn't want to admit it, she was itching to buy something. Not specifically for anyone, she had been adament with Ron that she wanted to take it slow, but she'd never really had girly stuff like this. Also, the store was teaming with incredibly attractive women. Ginny had really grown into her skin, Hermione on the other hand felt more like a boy when it came to her body. Hermione had always been strong but had never really grown out of her self consciousness.

"How do you know that someone isn't seeing them. Harry thinks lingerie is sexy too."

"Eew!" Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Like a brother, Ginny. He's like a brother."

Ginny shrugged it off and was soon distracted by the satin maroon section. She held them up for Hermione's inspection. "They're perfect! Gryffindor colours for-" Ginny stopped herself when she caught a glimpse of the face that Hermione had made. "Sorry, I forgot." Ginny then not so discreetly put them in her basket.

"Hermione, you should get some. I promise that I won't judge if that's why your holding back." Hermione didn't even try to deny it and instead went immediately over to a stall. She gasped when she spotted a beautiful silk set. The bra was a hunter green silk that had white late bordering the cups. The underwear was made of a thin sliver of material with delicately soft lace on either side. Hermione finally coaxed Ginny out and they exited the store, Ginny carrying a bag sizeably larger.

The weeks passed and she spent family dinners at the Weasely's after they moved back into the burrow perminately, explored London with Harry, went on another shopping trip with Ginny. Summer passed quickly, and Hermione was glad of it. It was the last night of August and after packing away all her things, Hermione sat down for a moment to admire her handy work. Her suitcase was ready and she'd even managed to squeeze her extra books in without another case. It was impressive considering what extreme measures she made in previous years to accommodate her mobile library. Hermione yawned and stretched out her arms. She had intended to get a good night's sleep but looked at her watch and cursed. It was midnight all ready. Hermione flung herself onto her bed and shut her eyes tightly.

The morning was groggy, although Harry had made her a strong dose of caffeine to help her get through it. The coffee was foreign on her tongue like it reigned from another world, tasting of spices and earthiness. They apperated to the station with their luggage in tow. Harry had far less than she did. Unlike with Ron, Hermione and Harry had talked about his future. Harry was going to be an Auror and was just getting his certificate. Both he and Ron would be gone after Christmas.

They walked side by side into the station. Marched for the last time through the 9th platform's wall. Harry blushed as he was bombarded with recognition amongst the crowds, even more now with his Order of Merlin. After fighting their way through the hordes of people, Hermione had managed to secure a free cabin. They hadn't run into Ron yet but they had spoken with Hannah Abbott and Ernie Macmillan who were Hufflepuff's only returning students. Hermione's stomach twisted when she realised that she might be the only Gryffindor to come back for their 8th year. However, she was put at ease when Dean Thomas came to join them in their compartment. He was followed by Natalie Fairbourne who was a Gryffindor that Hermione didn't seem to remember meeting. While Natalie asked Harry about his prospecting career at the Ministry, Hermione interrogated Dean.

"Dean, you don't happen to know who is going to be in the 8th year?"

"Sorry, Hermione. I know that Seamus isn't and that no one from Gryffindor besides me and Nat are coming back. At least not for the whole year." Dean sighed. "I guess we'll all have to make new friends. Even with the Slytherins."

Hermione sighed, realising that they would be again paired with the Slytherin house. "Who do you think it will be?"

"My money definitely isn't on Crabbe." Dean joked. "Maybe Theodore Nott. He was always more serious about school than the others. He seemed alright, even if he was a bit of a loner." Hermione couldn't help worrying who she would have to face at school. With Harry scheduled to leave so soon after the start of term, who would stick up for Hermione? Who could she trust? Perhaps she would have to go with her heart. Trust her gut to tell her who would be a friend and who would be a foe.

Dean spoke out after everyone had been silenced by time. "Harry, how did you know what you wanted to do?" Dean knotted his furrowed brow, "I still don't know what I want to be. Too much happened and know we're supposed to carry on like nothing changed? Get jobs, start families. Doesn't it all seem too normal?" Hermione felt like it was more of a rhetorical question. That, she'd realised, was what they all had in common. An understanding between house, race, blood heritage. That nothing would be normal every again.

But it was Harry who found the answer. "I thought I knew why I wanted to be an Auror in our fifth year. When Sirius was alive. I thought it was because I could fight the darkness in other people and in myself. That being something good would make me good. But that's not what it was. When I was fighting-" Harry provoked no gasps or even the faintest noise when he spoke the word, "-Voldemort. I thought I could do it alone but so many people died. It was stupid to think I could. I realised for the first time that being an Auror for meant protecting people and working to achieve something else. Peace, safety, whatever it was. Sirius would have wanted it." Harry finished with a determined look in his eyes. Hermione nodded reassuringly at Harry.

Natalie spoke up. "What about you, Hermione?" Hermione had thought a lot about it and she was left blank every time.

She grimaced, "I don't really know what I want to Pursue."

"Well, don't be scared about it. With a brain like yours and a order of Merlin distinction, plenty of people with be begging you to work for them." Natalie grinned.

Dean nearly fell of his seat. "Blimey! I completely forget to congratulate you guys." In his embarrassment, Dean's face melted into a rosy chocolate colour.

"God, you look like a plum!" Harry snorted. "Don't worry mate, there's no need to congratulate anyone." Harry and Dean joked for the rest of the train ride.

Hermione gazed out the window in a trance. Outside, the night plummeted from a fruit basket canvas to a dark moth bitten cloth draped over the sky. Pinpricks of starlight glistened through the waves of the night. Hermione felt peaceful, only remembering certain things before drifting to sleep. Cold glass pressing firmly against her cheek. A blur of voices. The scratch on the lacquer windowsill. Smells like Natalie's rose oil, Harry's shampoo. Hermione's head throbbed with a dull dizzy pain. Eyelids dropping with the heaviness of sleep. Black spots clouding her eyesight, head swimming, useless limbs. Then darkness...


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer****: Sadly, I don't own Harry Potter. Otherwise I wouldn't bother writing a disclaimer!**

**Author's note: Thank you so much for reading my story. It certainly isn't the best but I'm trying. Please do comment, I want to know what you think. Once again,**** Thanks! -Cosmae**

Draco sauntered down the slim hallway to one side of the train compartments. But when someone passed him, he didn't smirk, he smiled. A genuine smile. He had wanted to change after the Battle of Hogwarts. He'd wanted to escape the person that his Lucius, that Voldemort had compelled him to be.

Draco wrestled with the rusty-hinged car door. Grimacing when he realised it was the Gryffindor sector. If he walked through, Draco would want to apologise to every single person he passed. Honestly, he was disgusted with himself. Avoiding mirrors at every turn, just so he wouldn't have to see the ghost living in his eyes.

Draco took a deep breath and stepped onto the scarlet clad floor. But as he crossed the threshold, a terrified scream rent the air. Draco ripped past every compartment until he had located the bloodcurdling noise. There were four students inside, two boys and two girls. And one girl lay splayed on the floor, her hazel hair fanning out like a halo. Draco practically dove to her side, before anyone else had time to react. Checking her pulse and sighed to find the blood pounding in the vessel on her slender neck. He clutched her face in his hands, easing her eyes and mouth open. Draco snapped his neck upwards to the others, "It's Dragon poison, we need-" He stopped abruptly when he came face to face with the Chosen One.

"Potter…" They both stared uncomprehendingly. Draco turned uncertainly back to the girl draped on the carpet. He immediately recognised her as the bushy haired witch he had tormented. Granger. Draco snapped out of his short lived trance, "The poison is too strong for a bezoar stone, we need moonseed. It will calm the poison." When Harry continually gawked like an idiot, Draco yelled "Now!"

Hermione was thrown back into consciousness. Her lungs were on fire with a deep rooted burning. The light was blinding and she could see four fugues looming over her. The blur of sounds became more distinguishable and she heard her name from all directions. Hermione lifted up her hand to touch the face in front of hers, their lips speaking her name. She touched his cheek, her eyes still drowsy. But she pulled her hand away when she saw the blizzard of ice raging in his eyes, the waves of blonde sweeping across his forehead. And the green robes he wore. Malfoy.

Hermione blacked out again in Draco's arms. When the train grinder to a halt, Draco lifted her with ease and followed Harry out into the corridor.

Harry had offered to carry her but was still recovering from an injury in his wrist and back. Besides, Crookshanks refused for his cage to be handled by anyone else than Harry. All those nights alone with Hermione and Crookshanks at Grimmauld place had really brought them closer. Maybe it was just the entrails that Kreacher insisted on feeding him.

Draco could feel her soft mousy hair between the tips of his fingers. Hermione was light and he could carry her gracefully. Draco grinned as he pictured Weasel heaving just to get her off the ground. As he stepped carefully off the train onto the sooty platform, an eruption of noise ensued. Gasping and whispering echoed throughout the crowd. The Slytherin prince side by side with the Chosen one, Hermione Granger unconscious in his arms?

Draco noticed that the obnoxiously red tuft hair was nowhere he could see. The Weasel had a habit of disappearing when it suited him. A flaming temper to match his hair.

Draco walked passed the crowds on the woodland path, cloaked in darkness. Potter refused to leave Hermione so they tolerated walking in proximity. As the carriages neared, Draco inhaled sharply. Seeing the thestrals like he always did. Looking back to the hoards of students, he saw the shock and bewilderment in the faces of some and the sadness in others. The Angels of death were finally visible to all, the curse of its alleged beauty. Draco boarded a carriage with Potter. He held Granger in his arms while staring away from Potter's gang. When the carriage stopped and everyone marvelled at the restored splendour of Hogwarts castle.

The staff had obviously been working furiously to repair it for the school year. Surprisingly, Hogwarts had just as many students. Parents had apparently felt that their children were safe at Hogwarts with the dark forces gone. Everyone had been made aware of the precautions and additional protection to the school. Stone knights patrolling the boarders, sensory spells placed all around the grounds.

Draco had been completely unprepared when he received his admissions letter. With everything that happened, he was sure he would never step foot on those grounds again. His father was on trial and his mother on house arrest. Why would he be allowed to attend Hogwarts for their 8th year? It was beyond him. But he was ecstatic and eager for a second chance.

After stepping through the grand archway marking the school's entrance, Hermione was whisked away to the hospital wing. Draco felt the weight in his arms lift but a strange weight had began to settle on his chest.

Light streamed through the sterile white curtains. Hermione blinked profusely. She was lying in an infirmary bed, in the hospital wing. Her bedside table was smothered in painfully brightly coloured packages. Hermione turned, groaning at her sore neck, to stare at the dust dancing through the rays of spring sunshine.

Harry slouched in a padded chair pulled up close to the bed. From his tousled hair, Hermione guessed he had slept there. She radiating with warmth. "He must have spent the night by my side." Hermione smiled. "Wait! That means I've been here all night." She tried to concentrate on collapsing the previous evening. It was a blur of images and noises. The only thing that stood out was Draco. Seeing him bent over her, swaying as he carried her. Draco had smelt of leather, pine and the musk of old furniture. It was so different from the way Ron smelt.

_Ron! _

Hermione realised she hadn't seen him at all the last two days.

_Why is Harry here and not Ron? I mean, Harry's like a brother but isn't Ron meant to be my boyfriend? This is the kind of thing that boyfriends are meant to do. To check on their girlfriends who have been hospitalised. Look after them when they're sick. Carry them home. Carry them..._

Hermione thought how that was exactly what Draco had done. Then she groaned at who she was thinking of.

_You can't be thinking about Draco, you have a boyfriend! And if that's not enough, it's Draco Malfoy! Slytherin royalty. Death eater. Imagine what it would do to Ron if he knew what you were thinking! The sharp curve of his jaw, chiseled cheekbones. His smooth beckoning lips. The slenderness and firmness that reflected in every aspect of his body…_

Hermione gasped. She honestly had no idea where all of this was coming from.

"Snap out of it!" Hermione grimaced, holding one hand over her mouth. She'd just spoken loud enough to wake up the entire wing. Running her fingers roughly through her hair, Hermione fumbled in her pocket to stumble across a miscellaneous pencil. She could almost laugh at the sight of something so, _so Muggle _in the majestical aura of something as spectacular as Hogwarts. Hermione knotted the frizzy clump of her hair and stabbed the torrent of ochre with said pencil. She pulled her knees to her chin protectively, effectively rocking back and forth. Harry almost jumped out of his chair. After the wide-eyed scare Harry slumber back and furiously rubbed his drooping eye lids.

"Mione, you're awake?" Harry looked like he'd slept well, the bed head he was sporting had his hair in a hurricane type style. Hermione could even see where a slimy trail of saliva had stain the side of his cheek.

"Yeah," Hermione replied. "But my head is killing me." Reaching tentatively up to her unruly main to massage her aching brow. "What happened last night?"

"Well," Harry began with a hint of mischievousness leering in his voice.

"What."

"Wanna guess who came to your much needed rescue?" Harry jeered.

"Who? Are you going to tell me or-" Hermione's hand flew to cover her mouth. The leather, pine needles. The shockingly blonde hair. The rocking as he had carried her gently in his arms. "Malfoy!"

Harry smirked from ear to ear, Hermione had both hands clutching either side of her head.

After coming to turns with the fact that Malfoy of all people had been her knight in shinning armour, Hermione's stomach began to complain, _loudly. _She had worried so much about Ron that she had forgotten about the turmoil unfurling inside her empty stomach. Looking over to her right, Hermione could see that Harry was at the minimal qualification for 'awake'.

Hermione had dressed into the school uniform draped on the cushioned chair to the left of her bed. When bending over to fasten her shoes, Hermione noticed a small package amongst the others. According to the stacks of badly wrapped 'get well' gifts, news of Hermione's incident had spread like wildfire across the school. This particular package caught Hermione's eye when she spotted the cursive name embossed on the note. _Draco Malfoy _was splayed across the slip of parchment.

The blistering cold seeped through the stone walls, penetrating the fabric of Hermione's clothes. She desperately prayed that the Great Hall had insulated heating. Harry walked with Hermione practically shoulder to shoulder all the way down the winding staircase. They hadn't encountered any one yet which settled Hermione's anxiety of facing everyone. However the peace that had been left undisturbed was short lived. As soon as the duo pushed open the towering wooden doors leading into the Great Hall, they were assaulted with a wave of students.

"You're alive!" A rather over excited 5th year announced loud enough for every one to hear.

Hermione blushed as she was bombarded with encouraging affirmations. Harry steered her forcefully over to the red bannered Gryffindor table stretching the length of the hall. As she was crossing over to where Ginny sat contently, someone brushed a hand tentatively to her shoulder.

Hermione spun to face Draco with a concerned expression creasing his smooth brow.

"Hey, um," He mumbled. One hand scratched the back of his head nervously. "Are you feeling any better?"

Hermione smiled gently, "Yeah. I feel way-" She was cut off abruptly as Ron stepped suddenly between them.

Ron glared at Draco with as much ferocity as her could muster. "Why are you talking to my girlfriend, Ferret? She doesn't want anything to do with you."

Hermione felt kind of offended. "Ron, really. It's fine. I still want to say thank you." There was a note of annoyance in her voice as she replied.

"No, Hermione. You owe him nothing." Ron scowled.

Draco smirked, a mocking smile curling on his lips. "You don't know, do you?"

"What." Ron bit back.

Draco crossed his arms casually across his chest. "Hermione was poisoned last night on the train. You didn't bother stopping by the hospital wing last night. Wondering why she wasn't snoring like you in her dorm? You didn't know, did you."

Ron stuttered, his face plunging into an embarrassingly shocking shade of red. He recovered momentally to jab back. "Well, Ferret, what's that got to do with you?" Ron phrased it as more as a rhetorical question, nearly falling over when Draco answered.

"I would know because I carried her out of the train." Draco spoke so smoothly, no detectable hint of humour in his voice. Hermione wanted to die of embarrassment. Everyone had settled in their seats and all eyes where on the two bickering boys and Hermione who remained the only ones standing. The Hall was filled with silence aside from the occasional murmur which broke out.

Ron blushed even more looking, lost, back at Hermione. She stared down at her shoes, the embarrassment clearly radiating off her face. She could feel the eyes of every one in the Great Hall training on their every move. Ron opened his mouth in shock as if to begin apologising for being so oblivious. But instead, he remained silent.

Draco dropped his venomous attitude to lean over, looking past Ron who was still steaming. He looked directly at Hermione and said, "I really do hope you feel better."

Hermione stood awe-stuck as Draco glided fluently to his own table, one whose banners fluttered evergreen.


End file.
